The Bearwalker's Daughter

by Beth Trissel

  “Thanks, little brother,” he said through clenched teeth. Ungrateful pup. Hadn’t Jack saved his ass today?

  He returned the blow, driving his fist into Joseph’s gut. The younger man doubled over with a grunt.

  Without pause, Jack swiveled and launched into Brewster before that fellow came at him. Taking the big man unawares, he dealt him a teeth-rattling punch.

  Brewster staggered back, surprise mingled with the sting watering his eyes. “Hell—”

  Joseph straightened, sputtering, “Hold on. We’re not finished yet.”

  “Sorry.” Wheeling around, Jack struck him again.

  He reeled back, fingering his jaw. A scarlet trickle ran down his chin.

  “How about now?”

  With an angry howl, the herd rushed him.

  “Now that’s what I call unfair!” Thomas dove into the melee landing punches like mallets on the offenders. Plainly, he knew his way around a brawl and heaved one fellow spoiling for a fight over his shoulder.

  In the oncoming charge, Jack was eternally grateful not to be fighting this particular McNeal. Mayhem broke loose. Chairs overturned. Screeching women snatched dishes from the tables to bear them to safety. Farsighted men grabbed brown whiskey bottles.

  Where was Karin? Angst over her welfare flared in Jack as he swung his fists and dodged the knuckles coming at him. He’d learned to be quick from Shequenor and landed more blows than he took. Still, each jolt took its toll. And he’d already banged his head once today. Not to mention his other injuries, but retreat wasn’t an option under his present circumstances.

  John McNeal waded in and warded off free-flying punches with a few hard knocks of his own. Woe unto those unfortunates on the receiving end of his fists. Gripping Joseph by the shoulder, he wrangled him out of the riot to the side of the room. Jack overheard their stepfather admonish the younger McCray to, “Stay put!”

  No doubt his mother feared for her boy and had sent John in after him. She’d been forced to resign Jack to his fate long ago. He had no time to dwell on her or his sibling. Jeb was back, snarling like an unleashed hound. Whiskey permeated his rank breath and he gripped a knife.

  So it had come to that. This was gonna get ugly fast. Old grievances inevitably came to the fore. The fracas was in danger of surging beyond the trouble over Jack and spinning out of control. Particularly among these clannish men who’d imbibed too freely.

  Jack dipped to the side to elude Jeb then came at him with the speed of a striking snake. Grasping Jeb’s arm, he forced the blade from his hand. The knife clunked to the floor. Jack kicked out and made contact with Jeb’s midriff. He sent him flying backwards in a clatter of stools. Jeb landed uncomfortably near the hearth, but he wasn’t the only man with a knife.

  “Jack!”

  His heart lurched into his throat. Was Karin in danger?

  He angled a glance at the far side of the room near the front door. It was flung wide. In the yard by the stoop he spotted her mounted on Peki. A long rifle hung over one shoulder, a shot pouch and powder horn were draped across her other. He even glimpsed a bedroll tied behind the saddle. Damn, the girl had been busy.

  “Jack, get over here!”

  For a second, he gaped at her as did many in the room. But a moment was all he could allow himself. As before, when she’d asked him to leave, there were a number of obstacles looming between him and the door.

  “Karin McNeal! What in God’s name are you doing?” her grandfather yelled.

  “Getting Jack away!”

  “Blast it, Papa. She’s got my rifle now.”

  Jack heard, rather than saw, Karin’s annoyed Uncle Paul.

  Ignoring him, she yelled, “Use the necklace, Jack!”

  Was she insane?

  John roared, “What in blazes? Not that necklace!”

  Thomas fought his way to Jack. “Wait!” “Now, Jack!” Karin urged.

  He looked around at the men closing in on him, almost preferring the pack of wolves. But he had no better idea than hers and thrust his hand into the pouch at his waist. The necklace burned his skin as he drew it out and held it high. Blue light radiated from the fiery gem like azure flames.

  Awe rippled through the stunned crowd at the flashing stone. “Bloody hell,” grunted one bystander.

  Jack chose that opening to bolt through the stilled mass to the door. Angry mutterings, and worse, would soon follow. Before the gathering came to their senses, he bounded across the porch.

  Stuffing the necklace back in his pouch, he sprang up behind Karin on the waiting mount. He slid the rifle from her sagging shoulder and slipped the woven strap over his. She must have been strengthened by sheer willpower to get herself and that heavy rifle up onto Peki. Maybe she’d balanced on a fence post, or used the porch to mount. However she’d managed, Karin had saved his backside. Much as Jack hated to admit it, she truly was her father’s daughter. Though every bit a McNeal, a marvelous blend.

  “Devil take you, Jack!” Jeb belted out.

  “After you.” Wrapping his arm around her, Jack dug his heels into the horse’s flanks.

  Peki lunged ahead. Jack wiped the blood from his lips and plotted their course. If they forged a respectable lead and stayed ahead of inevitable pursuers, they might have a chance.

  “Where are we going?” Karin shouted.

  An unlikely chuckle escaped him. “Didn’t you plan that out too?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hooves drumming, Peki cantered over the rutted path, faintly illuminated by starlight. Filmy clouds laced the stars before sailing on again in the celestial sea vaulting above Karin. The countryside glittered with frost and earthy scents rose in the night. Even the rabbit hovering at the side of the path seemed shivery and the owl sailing overhead, cold. The moon bestowed a mysterious smile on their flight.

  Trembling with the chill and her daring in helping to extricate Jack, she envisioned the uproar they’d left behind. Not least of all, her grandfather’s fearsome fury. He’d fix the blame on Jack, not her, the adored one.

  Praying for peace between them, as between opposing peoples, she leaned back in Jack’s warm hold. She cast desperately about for a way to resolve this conflict. Maybe Sarah could calm her infuriated husband and Joseph would settle down and see reason, and Kyle Brewster, and all the others who’d just as soon pound Jack into the dirt. Uncle Thomas had come to his support. This favorite uncle would want Karin back at all costs, but he’d be sympathetic to their plight.

  Let them choose now, life or death, blessing or cursing, for she’d not live without Jack. If they damned him, they’d damned her. If he were banished, then so was she, though the reality of what that meant hadn’t really sunk in yet. Nor would she allow it to, the very idea far too grim.

  The path took on a familiar route as inherent as her earliest memories. “You’re heading back to my old home?”

  “Where better to stay the night? That cabin is on the way and we’ll be off again in the morning.”

  “You think Grandpa will figure out where you plan to go?”

  “I don’t know. But he and your menfolk will come after us, rest assured of that. And there’s not a blessed thing I can do except stay one step ahead of them.”

  “There might be something Shequenor can do.”

  Jack tensed at the name. “Few back there would stand a chance. Do you really want to enlist him against your own family?”

  She shuddered. “Never. Oh, Jack, what are we doing?”

  “Beating a retreat from men trying to beat me to a pulp and heading into the lion’s mouth.”

  “Bear’s,” she amended, with a spine-tingling tremor.

  “Same difference. If we don’t go to him, he will plague us indefinitely. May anyway. Just now, though, I prefer his company to the welcome my kinsmen gave me. I’ve had more hospitality on the battlefield.”

  She sighed. “How many battles have you known?”

  “Too many. Slogged from campaign to campaign.”

 
; The images of Jack in battle clashed with the tenderness she’d experienced from him. “What were you like? Did you kill many men?”

  “I’ve killed my share. Either you fight or flee like a coward and leave it to the rest. Survival takes over, and if your homeland’s at stake, fierce possessiveness. The fight over you has just begun, sweetheart.”

  “I never meant to cause a ruckus and send us into exile.”

  “Never mind. I would cross the whole world just for the chance to be with you for a single night.”

  “Really? And when you said you were in love...”

  “Was it with you?” He chuckled. “Must I say the words?”

  “You don’t seem the sort to fall in love.”

  “No, I’m not. But I had never met Shequenor’s daughter before. And you are, Karin,” he said solemnly.

  “But you said he’s so fierce.”

  “He’s many things.”

  ****

  The fire in the hearth popped with a hiss. Neeley jerked in her rocker before the flames. Lifting her head, she glanced drowsily around to see the two servant girls quietly going about their duties. Peter McNeal, John’s middle son and the most subdued of the three, had come to check on the livestock, then looked in on her and gone. Not a racing man, he’d wisely avoided the crush. That left Neeley with Alice and Betty. For some reason, her limbs were weighted and she was too somnolent to rise and go to bed.

  Succumbing to the strange lethargy, she laid her head back on the chair and drifted off in the way she’d done earlier this afternoon...slipping out the door and into the night. Had Shequenor summoned her again? If so, she’d go where he willed. They shared a mutual interest dear to her heart, Karin. And in his way, Jack.

  It seemed to Neeley that she left her frail body behind as she flew over the blackened outlines of tree-covered hills and plowed fields. Sheep bleated below in a frosty meadow, but she didn’t suffer cold. She could still be nestled before the hearth for all her comfort. And yet, she smelled the wind laden with the scent of the autumn forest, the tang of crabapples, wild grapes, and the nuttiness of hazels…a rich meld of fragrance she hadn’t known in years.

  The moon glinted in a sky more filled with stars than she ever remembered seeing. Or maybe, it’s just that she truly saw them now.

  Below her, the ribbon of a path took shape and wound through the countryside. The rhythm of hooves led her to the pair she sought. Karin rode in Jack’s embrace, mounted on his stallion. How fast they sped along, as though their lives hung on the horse’s outstretched legs. Perhaps they did.

  Not far behind the fleeing couple, a band of riders pounded over the trail. At least half a dozen men were hard on their heels. In that instant, she knew who they were and why they chased after the lovers. A short distance ahead of Jack and Karin was a lesser known path, seldom traveled. If Jack chose that route, it would lead them to the cabin by a secret trail. If he continued on his present course, the couple would be overtaken before they crossed the stream. They must cross it first.

  But Jack wasn’t familiar with this other way and mightn’t even see it. Karin had only a faint memory. Neeley once brought her by this path to visit the old home place and tell her a bit about her mother.

  Was this why Neeley had been led here, to direct them? In a moment, it would be too late. She must act now. Like a bird in flight, she neared the couple and hovered above them, Karin’s precious head just beneath her fluttery presence.

  Reaching out her fingertips, she touched the girl’s downy cheek. Karin, lass. Neeley spoke near her ear.

  Karin roused as if she sensed her, glancing around and listening hard. The girl could hear what others couldn’t. Neeley prayed she’d heed her now. Remember the old way home. Take that path, child.

  “Jack!” Karin summoned over the wind. “There’s another way to the cabin. There.” She pointed at the shadowy track up ahead. “Hardly anyone uses it.”

  “Including me,” he argued. “We could get lost.”

  “I remember. Neeley showed me.”

  “In the dark?”

  “Trust me,” she implored him.

  “All right.”

  Godspeed. Neeley gave her precious charge a parting touch. With a sigh of relief, she floated above them as Jack wheeled the stallion onto the dim path and out of sight before the approaching riders. He and Karin still had to keep ahead, but this gave them a chance.

  And then it seemed to Neeley that the sky was shot through with the most glorious gold light, shimmering more brightly than the sun. She really must go see this wondrous sight...and lifted toward the radiant glow.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Water rushing over stones alerted Jack to the closeness of the stream. Here and there between the bare branches of trees along the bank, he glimpsed moonlight reflecting off the swift spill.

  “Ho—” he panted, reining in his winded mount. The stallion stood, sides heaving, as Jack debated his next move. “Shall we plunge in here or seek a spot farther down?”

  “You choose.” Karin’s teeth chattered. “I’ve not come by this route in so long. ’Tis treacherous looking. Even worse than before.”

  “Yes. It must have rained again back in the mountains and flowed down here.”

  She shook from head-to-toe. “Wretched crossing.”

  He wore no coat to enclose her in and had no other means to warm her. “We’ll make it over.”

  “Do you still intend to head for the old cabin?”

  “A ready hearth and warm bed await us there. You’ve been chilled through once today and are little better now. I badly want you settled in decent shelter.”

  She seemed torn despite quaking discomfort. “Dare we take the risk?”

  “I hope this route gave us a decent lead. Our pursuers may have paused to search other trails when they failed to spot us ahead.”

  “Will Grandpa guess where we’re going?”

  “If not, it’s only a matter of time until he does. Still, we may have the night.”

  She shuddered. “And may not.”

  “That decision does not yet lie before us. First the stream.” Jack tightened his arm around her waist. “We have to cross somewhere. Might as well be here.”

  She was rigid in his grip. “Go on, then. I’m ready.”

  He gave a low whistle. “That’s raw courage.”

  “I don’t feel particularly brave, shaking like a leaf and not only from the cold.”

  “Ah, but you are. Remember who you come from.”

  “Grandpa says the same.”

  “He’s right. More than he knows.”

  Nudging Peki in the sides, Jack guided the stallion down the rocky bank through ghostly sycamore trunks to fast-running water. He paused for a moment and surveyed the torrent winking in the moonlight.

  Karin gulped in, and breathed out, “May God go with us.”

  Jack silently echoed her prayer. “Tuck up your skirts.” Then to the horse, “Go, Peki!”

  The stallion hesitated as if thinking better of it. “Sensible creature,” Karin said.

  “We’ve no time for sense. Git on!” Jack prodded the reluctant animal down into the rapid tumble.

  Icy water slammed into them like a liquid wall, spraying frigid droplets up into Jack’s face and soaking his high-top moccasins. Karin was getting a worse wetting and could least endure it on top of this day. The big horse shuddered under the assault, but fought to hold his shifting ground. Bracing himself, he pushed on into the center of the frothy deluge.

  Woodland debris swirled by them in the darkness. Jack barely distinguished the twigs and branches where the light touched down, and only for an instant. He glimpsed the trunk from a downed tree snapped in half and sailing at them with the force of a cannon ball. Too late, he hauled on the reins, grunting as the missile clipped him smartly on the leg. Peki squealed in pain. It must have caught his shoulder in passing.

  “Jack! Are you all right?”

  “Got my leg—don’t think it’s deep! Do
n’t know about Peki. You all right?”

  “Yes.”

  That was a mercy. He only hoped the horse wasn’t badly hurt. He could do nothing for him now, thigh high in the pummeling flow. He patted Peki’s saturated neck. “Come on, boy. Let’s go.”

  Toughened by months on the trail and the hard slog of battle, the steadfast horse soldiered on through the violent waterway. Blowing hard, he reached the other side and scrambled up the rain- drenched bank.

  With a startled cry, Peki lurched to the side. He fought for footing and slid in the mud. Jack hung on as the stallion went down onto his knees. The nimble animal jolted back up onto his hooves, lurching again. He skidded backwards, and then threw himself forward, scrabbling at the slick earth for a foothold.

  Jack clung to Karin for dear life. But somehow— he’d never forgive himself—she tore from his arms and tumbled to the ground.

  Fern browned by frost padded her fall. But it was hard enough. Worse, he watched in helpless horror as she tumbled over and over down the bank. “Karin!”

  An incoherent cry sounded in muffled reply from somewhere below.

  Peki righted himself and instinctively dug in his heels. He stood, shaken but steady, as Jack sprang from the saddle, yelling, “Karin!”